


First Impressions Count

by spooky_chet (Mungo_of_Maundery)



Series: The I'm Right And Chris Carter Is Wrong, So There! AU [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: ADHD!Mulder, Canon Compliant, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Gen, Missing Scene, neurodivergent character, photophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 22:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16543877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mungo_of_Maundery/pseuds/spooky_chet
Summary: Fox Mulder did not have a partner, did not want one, and did not have a say in whether or not he got one. Now he has to tidy his office and try not to freak the new kid out and - horror of horrors - actually turn the lights on in the basement.





	First Impressions Count

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of what will be an AU that spans the whole show, but any fics set in season 1 and most set in season 2 are canon-compliant - I'll only be diverging from canon at s03e02: Paper Clip. This fic, therefore, can be read as a standalone.

Fox Mulder did not have a partner, did not want one, and did not have a say in whether or not he got one. So when he got the memo that he was being assigned a recruit fresh out of Quantico, he was resigned, but not surprised. It had only been a matter of time. Perhaps he should have enjoyed his freedom more while it had lasted.

It was an open secret that the FBI bigwigs wanted him shut down: a spy sent by Blevins to debunk Mulder’s work was just what they needed. Mulder locked his doors and tried not to be too paranoid.

That was where Dana Scully came into the equation. They’d let him look through her personnel file – a mere courtesy to him, of course, he didn’t have a say in the decision. A medical doctor, a graduate in physics, at Quantico for the past two years. Mulder knew their game: pick a new recruit, someone they could mould, someone impressionable. Someone smart, capable of holding their own, but naïve enough for Blevins to still have the boss on them. It was inspired, in theory, but Mulder had his doubts. Anyone who could strip down Einstein with such brash confidence… He wondered how deeply they’d looked into her background.

Even so, Mulder reminded himself as he shoved a pile of papers into a drawer in an attempt to tidy up before his new partner arrived, it wasn’t wise to expect her to be free-thinking. When it came down to it, he thought, quashing as much of his curiosity as he could, she was just another of Blevins’ stooges. She wasn’t to be trusted.

He just hoped she wouldn’t hamper him too much. The last thing he needed was to be a babysitter – or worse, to be babysat.

After backing the last heap of extraneous papers into an overstuffed desk drawer, Mulder sat back and contemplated his office. It looked… fairly normal. He hoped. He was sure that in her briefing they wouldn’t tell her outright that her new partner was stark raving mad, but Mulder knew his reputation preceded him. It was hard to know, from the basement itself, what kind of rumours might be circulating in the higher echelons of normal society. Up there where the elevators worked consistently and the air conditioning didn’t break down during the summer. Up where cases were solved to the bosses’ satisfaction. Mulder smirked to himself and flicked a sunflower seed shell into the wastepaper basket.

He checked his watch, for the sixth time that morning. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t be nervous, surely. He gave the office another once over, and then another. Still looked normal. She’d be here soon, all notebooks and superciliousness and orders from Blevins to watch Mulder like a hawk.

He started to wander the room, picking things up to tidy them only to put them back down where he found them. Where should he be when she entered? First impressions counted. This was vital. Should he be at the computer? Reading her thesis (he’d had a copy printed) was maybe a tad conceited. Over by the projector? Checking the slides he’d had brought over last night? Maybe that would be best, something a little mysterious, something she’d have to get closer to to see clearly.

It was as his ears picked up the telltale sound of the elevator coming down that he remembered that most people kept the lights on in basements with no windows. He didn’t want to come across too ghoulish just yet. But where was the light switch? He didn’t think he’d ever used it. Hearing the grinding of the elevator to a stop, he cast around wildly – there! He leapt across the room and closed his eyes for a moment as he slammed the heel of his palm on the switch. The elevator doors had opened; he could hear Agent Scully’s heels on the hard linoleum. Mulder dashed back to his chair, stumbling over the wastepaper basket – never mind – he kicked it under the desk – she probably wouldn’t notice – and there was a knock at the door.

“Sorry, nobody down here but the FBI’s most unwanted.”


End file.
